Looking Back

   Looking back through my binder full of old journal entries I found this.  I had in mind that it would be the first page of a book I may never write.  This is the wall I talked about.  I tweaked it a bit to fix some writing and add a couple other things.  I know its a bit heavier than the things I usually post, but I'm practicing that vulnerability I talked about.

   STRENGTH, a word most people view as a compliment, a positive attribute, a rare characteristic that puts them above the rest.  For one reason or another this is a word that many around me have to used to describe me.  When looking from outside I can see how easy it could be to quickly throw the label my way.  No matter what seems to happen in my life, it was a rare occasion to ever see me show any sort of emotional pain.  Even when it had become an expectation to see my father drunk, never would I let on that it was tearing me apart inside.  Only the few that I had allowed to come close would ever see me for who I was, who I am.  They were the chosen ones who were given permission to witness my own personal anguish that I had learned to hide, without effort, from the rest of the world.  Yet, even with my complacent attitude in times of distress I had to ask myself why no one questioned my ability to stay utterly calm when my best friend had given up on life.  Or when my family friend took hers.  What they didn't seem to understand was that to me, the idea of strength has simply been used as a tool, a shield against my own mentality...an escape from myself.  In living with my depressed father, my strength was avoiding the problem in its entirety.  I would pretend to be strong until the time came to go home.  I had somehow managed to convince myself that this was how life was supposed to be; full of battles that are constantly being fought.  Full of reasons to hide.  And with that explanation I created a box to hold my battles and my true emotions.  When my friend tried giving up, I went back to that box in hopes of carrying the burden she could no longer handle.  I have tried to take the burdens of others and put them in this box and carry it on my own shoulders.  Through all of these experiences, it was the box that continued to strengthen, not my ability to truly endure the situation.
    STRONG, a word I have grown to hate, a word that I had chosen to hide behind.  To me, being strong is no strength at all.

And I will end this post with a quote that I can't take credit for.

"Vulnerability is not weakness...it is our most accurate measurement of courage."
-Brené Brown

My Adventure in Vulnerability

   What does it mean to be vulnerable?  Capable of being physically or emotionally wounded.  Doesn't that apply to people everywhere?  Physically yes, but not everyone gives themselves the chance to be emotionally hurt.  People hide from it because vulnerability can bring shame and fear and uncertainty...but it brings about chances to so many great things.  Connection and compassion and the ability to love and be loved with your whole heart.  The shame and fear and uncertainty come when you jump in with both feet, only to find yourself on the floor like a rag doll.  People applaud me for being vulnerable.  I tell them I don't have a choice, that the things I'm feeling won't allow themselves to be hidden.  But maybe I've been training for this.  Maybe the years I spent hiding in high school and part of college, maybe they have shown me why vulnerability is so important.  Because when I opened up a tiny part of that pain I had been holding onto, I met amazing people who helped me break down a little more of that wall.  I recognize that part of that wall still exists and I feel myself wanting to begin building it back up.  I struggle with the urge to protect myself from this physical and emotional pain, but I know this would only leave me locked up within my own prison.  Building a wall is a temporary fix.  
    I didn't realize how vulnerable I had become over the years until I lost the future I fell in love with.  I find myself reaching out to friends I've known for a few months, and those I haven't talked to in years.  I have discovered stronger bonds, and am beginning to realize that I helped build them.  The journeys I have taken throughout my life have helped me step away from uncertainty.  Sometimes I wonder what to do with uncertainty when it comes up, and I struggle with wanting to know the outcomes when there are bigger things at stake.  For adventures, I crave uncertainty.  I become nervous when heavy emotions and hearts are involved.  But I need to remember to push through that fear when the time is right...when my heart tells me its ok.
    So my new mission is to hold onto that vulnerability, because pushing through that terror creates connection.  I am going to remember to love with my whole heart, even though there's no guarantee.  And to be thankful for these moments of intense vulnerability...because it means I'm alive.